In every other moment
by SaintFirestar666
Summary: A collection of vaguely connected snapshots about Maka and Death the Kid's relatonship/build up towards. It's better than it sounds, the timeline isn't consistant but a plot is there if you look hard. WARNING: there is nothing explicit but there are hints
1. The day where it began

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul eater. The only thing I have is the plot. **

**Maka and Death the Kid copyright to Ohkubo Atsushi**

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Maka stepped out of the swimming pool at casa el la morte, in other words; Death the Kid's completely symmetrical mansion.  
They had all been invited over for a sleep over via the Thompson twins, Kid hadn't protested but requested they leave him alone until the evening because he was working, (on what they didn't know and to be honest; if it was such a secret thing they probably didn't want to, either).

The mansion had a heated indoor pool at the back with a glass roof and some carefully arranged potted palms, where they had hung out most of the day.  
Soul was lounging on a deck chair, attempting to look 'cool' in the sun after going swimming for about three minutes at a time to preserve 'the wet look'. Black-Star was leaping off the top diving board in increasingly heath-and-safety concerning ways, whilst Tsubaki was relaxing on a Li-lo just out of splash range and dutifully clapping each time he jumped. Liz was sunning herself on a towel at the side and chatting to Soul and Patty (who was wrestling with an inflatable giraffe.)  
Maka on the other hand had grown tired of the water, she was getting cold just swimming and tanning had never been a big thing for her. So she left them to it, grabbing a towel while she went in search of a jumper and her book.

She walked down the long hall to the room she had changed in, her towel thrown over one shoulder as she drip-dried, only pausing to say 'Hi!' to Death the kid as he passed to go down the stairs. He returned the greeting, flashing a symmetrical smile which left her knees in a jelly-like consistency.  
Maka doesn't know when the feelings she has for Kid surfaced, but she's getting frustrated with them. It was practically impossible to hold a decent conversation with him any-more! And heaven forbid they make skin contact; his hands are deadly weapons that disrupted her calm, de-railed her train of thought and zapped her central nervous system with a million volts of electricity.

His hands weren't cold hands like Soul's always were, no matter the situation or what they had just been doing. In fact, Kid's hands were warm even in the coldest of weathers, (she happened to notice after that trip to the Arctic Circle, alright?! It was astonishing he didn't melt the damn snow when they were there). There were other things she had noticed too. Such as the fact she'd unconsciously seek his approval, or his attention like she was like a puppy following its beloved master, which was ridiculous! What was she? Some kind of masochist for wanting to talk to him, despite the pain in her heart wailing he didn't know she existed, beyond the fact her hair was symmetrical and she had soul perception capabilities?

But never mind, it was just a stupid crush and it would go away eventually. It was made all the more awkward on her part however, when one of the others made comments about how she and Soul would be together for life, which was annoying because while it was probably true on the partner side of things, she didn't like her love-life being planned for her thank you very much. It got worse when Soul didn't even protest after a certain point and got grumpy with her if she protested too much. If she heard one more comment about following her mom's footsteps she'll...

Maka sighed as she reached to unzip the back of her swimsuit; 'When did life get so complicated?'

Kid was mildly frustrated.  
His work for Shibusen was proving to be more difficult than he had anticipated, leaving him tired and irritable. He had hoped to spend time with his friends that afternoon, but he had to recheck every. Single. Figure. Before he could send the document to his father. Three quarters of the way done, he had decided a walk around the house and a drink for a short break would probably help him focus. He got up from his computer chair and headed downstairs, pausing to greet Maka briefly, running away before her damp figure could break his already over-taxed control. He wasn't a pervert you understand (he detested such beings,) and he wasn't your average teenage human either, but he was _male_ and it made that little bit of a difference.

Two drinks of tap water later; one from each sink to make himself try and focus on other things rather than the way her swimsuit clung, he had forced himself to return to his study.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs however, he saw through the open door of Maka's chosen changing room, a sight that made him silently convulse. It was a completely innocent image, but it was the single most arousing thing he had ever seen in his life. Simply put, Maka's costume had a zip from the collar to just above the small of her back, which was undone. It wasn't revealing anything because the costume was still damp and therefore, stuck to her skin. Her back was revealed but nothing else, and somehow it's the slightly tanned expanse of skin that sets his heart doing the bossa nova in his chest.

Maka was still pondering the answer to her problems ten minutes later, as she reached into her suitcase that she had placed on a chest of drawers. Casting aside her usual knitted sweater in search of her long, pink zip-up hoodie (1), she pulled it out from the very bottom of the suitcase and holding it out in front of her checking it for creases, she was completely un-prepared at what happened next.

Feeling that sudden tingle that was a large part of her battle reflexes, the part of your brain that says: 'you are not alone!' She froze for a split second, tensing each of her muscles in preparation to do battle with some would-be kishin, when a pair of warm hands stopped her in her tracks. Scared to turn and face the latest horror she was at the total mercy of; Maka stayed stock still, whereupon an equally warm voice accompanied the hands either side of her spine.

"Well, this won't do." The _second_ he said the very first_ letter_ she knew it was Kid. Which in turn made her relax and then stiffen all over again (for completely different reasons) at his hotter-than-normal breath ghosting over her bare shoulder blades as he spoke. Now that she isn't petrified by surprise, she can _feel_ the unnatural warmth radiating from his body so close to hers, clad in his shirt and tie. Young Shinigami it seems, have a higher core temperature than that of humans, once of the reasons they are so resistant to illness. And at that particular moment in time, it was warming her right to her toes. His left hand is on her upper back, while the other has moved (leaving cold chills in its wake) to her zip.

"I will not stand to see someone usually so perfect," He continues, Maka is _so very _glad right now that he is behind her, and not in front where he could see the irritating dusting of pink across her cheek bones that just won't go away, no matter how many times she thinks; '_It's only Kid, he's like your brother. It's only kid, he's like your brother._' To herself. She's still slightly bent over the open suitcase, but she's now clutching the hoodie to her chest praying she won't do anything stupid like _turn around__ and kiss him _as Kid is slightly bent over her spine. The hand at her zip twitches, and she fights to keep herself from running away as he finishes his statement.

"Wear something so...Unsymmetrical." And then he does up her zip. And Maka thinks for a split second that _that_ was the single most arousing thing she has ever experienced, before shoving the thought in a box labelled: DO NOT TOUCH. Plus, somehow she knows he has gone, because there's no heat behind her anymore and quite frankly she's grateful because she now needs to pull herself together. She lets one shiver slip through her guard before shoving on the sweater, grabbing her book and making the speediest retreat to the swimming pool as possible.

Because there was no way Kid liked her like that, right?

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**(1)- She wears in for the poster/chapter beginning page of chapter 43: the clown (middle part). They're all wearing what's on that front cover but I was lazy and decided not to try and describe them all.**

**Thanks for reading. **

**Saint, over and out.**


	2. The day where they thought

**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or its characters. Neither do I own the song that inspired this.  
Soul eater is Copyrighted  
Masochism Tango is copyright to Tom Leher.**

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**Masochism Tango**

It can't be healthy for them, to keep on repeating the same dance steps while creeping closer and closer together, getting more daring with every repeat-  
_**and how does no one notice this spark they share, lighting their souls.**_

_I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,  
But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.  
You can raise welts  
Like nobody else,  
As we dance to the masochism tango.  
_

They are no longer in the white of simple friendship or in the darkness of relationship, but rather in that twilight between worlds; dancing on that knife's edge between friends and more than that, and no one can see the signs they feel they are projecting so loudly in their desire to become-  
_**so much more than just two halfs of one whole**_**.**

_Say our love be a flame, not an ember,  
Say it's me that you want to dismember.  
Blacken my eye,  
Set fire to my tie,  
As we dance to the masochism tango.  
_

And their feet may be cut and bleeding, -  
_**and it hurts it hurts why does it hurt so badly?  
**_  
and they may be gasping for air but they keep on dancing to the tune of their hearts and the beat of their breaths-  
_**completely deaf to the music they're dancing to; so silent, and yet so loud.**_

So that every footstep is placed with uttermost care-  
_**in clear synchronisation that they should be in but try so hard not to be because if the wrong person sees them it's the end of everything**_**. **

_My soul is on fire,  
it's aflame with desire,  
which is why I perspire  
when we tango._

Twirling slowly and so very closely for one moment-  
_**touchable for that one instant where we step closer into the shared space, the heat that is us burning into my skin.  
**_**  
**Before one or the other turns spinning away and they are beginning all over again-  
_**why can't we simply step into an all new dance?**_

_Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches.  
The last time I needed twenty stitches  
To sew up the gash  
That you made with your lash,  
As we danced to the masochism tango_

She can only hope that one day they'll have enough courage to actually stop, end the steps and pick a side to define the thing that has become Them, -  
_**to fall over the wall and finally stop this insanity.  
**_  
Then she thinks again-  
_**how many lives would suffer, how many friendships would change just because of us?**_

And she finds that she doesn't really want to.

_Bash in my brain,  
And make me scream with pain,  
Then kick me once again,  
And_ _say we'll never part.  
I know too well  
I'm underneath your spell,  
So, darling, if you smell  
Something burning, it's my heart._

She wants to keep on going and hope it doesn't end _**not yet not yet not yet...**_

_**Because it's worth it all if they never get the chance to dance again.**_

_Take your cigarette from its holder,  
and burn your initials in my shoulder.  
Fracture my spine,  
and swear that you're mine,  
as we dance to the masochism tango._

_

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_

**I changed the song a bit to make it fit, because parts of it were funny and what I wanted to emphasise the pain they want to go through to see and speak to each other. The bold italics are Maka's and Kid's thoughts; see if you can guess whose is whose? And yes at the end it switches POV to Maka, I'm sorry that's just how it turned out. Writing 'they' feels wrong and makes me think of Chrona which is the wrong tangent entirely...  
I'll probably do a better version that hasn't got the song in it and then it'll make more sense, eventually when I get there.  
Saint over and out. **


	3. The day where they tempted fate

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of soul eater and it's accompaniments  
This was inspired by a different Fanfic of a different, but similar couple. The situation and reasoning was different but I'd like to thank the author anyway, despite the fact they'll never read this, because they are someone I truly admire. **

**My apologies at taking so long, I lost interest in soul eater and only recently found it again.**

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_Crescendo_

Kid was not his usual picture of calm and tranquillity.

In fact; if any of their friends had seen him at that moment they would have probably casually asked him what was wrong, before making an excuse and slipping away as fast as possible.

To another state.  
Or country.

This is because they could tell from his face, he was a ticking time bomb of repressed rage and if he did blow up; (which could be over anything at all, with no way to tell what would set him off.) Whilst they were still in the vicinity, they prayed silently that his anger would not be focused at them, because the result was _not going to be pretty_.

Currently, he was on Soul's orange motorbike, driving in medium to heavy traffic on the highway out of Nevada. However, this was not the problem causing his mounting rage. It was surprising (for _everyone_) to know he could drive a car, let alone a motor-bike, but this fact pales in significance as his thoughts were _not_ _on the road right now_.  
The other drivers took one look at his eyes and let him through their ranks without question, they weren't going to have that _thing_ glaring at them in the rear-view mirror for the next few miles.

To understand Kid's seemingly inexplicable _breathe-wrong-and-see-how-well-you-can-breathe-without-your-lungs _mood, would require a small explanation as to why the situation had come about at all. After all, Kid was not known to gallivant across the country on a motorcycle, getting angrier and angrier with every passing second due to unforeseen... complications.

**Roughly two days ago**: Kid and his team along with the latest death scythe (Soul) and his technician (Maka) had been assigned a special mission. This was a fairly routine occurrence, the only technicality separating it from any other mission being the required two star status, due to level of difficulty and the need for Soul perception. Again, not entirely unusual seeing as he and Maka were the best with Soul perception at that level, so it was not unheard of for them to do missions together; particularly if it was after a tricky/powerful soul, or someone capable of Soul protect. Like a witch.  
Which it was.

It was one of the very few missions assigned at Shibusen that required going undercover, completely due to the skittish nature of the witch they were trying to capture or drive out of the town she was tormenting. This meant that Kid's usual method of transport: Beelzebub, was not an option. The skateboard, while it could probably carry two passengers in a pinch, was far too ostentatious and recognisable for a subtle entrance. Maka had sent Soul ahead by two days to case the hotel their suspect was staying in; so they could form a plan of attack and to build a believable back story of travelling students coming together for the holidays. Once they had the fake 'arrival' message from Soul from a payphone three streets away confirming she actually _was_ at the hotel, they had set off instantly.  
None of the group were in their usual, recognisable outfits; choosing instead to wear 'in character' clothes so as to help the story if they had to stay for more than one night. Kid was wearing tan cargo-pants, a plain green T-shirt with a leather jacket currently stuffed in the duffel bag strapped to one side of the bike, with Maka and Souls extra clothes being stashed in a similar one on the other. Maka was wearing a white tank top with a sports pattern on it, really short white denim shorts with a belt and a long tan trench coat. She currently had a pair of headphones in, just to cover the noise of the engine.

The coat tail was flapping manically in the slipstream of the bike, though the flapping sound was drowned out by the roar of the bike's engine as they weaved in and out of steadily increasing traffic.  
But it wasn't the traffic that was causing Kid's ire.  
Or the asymmetrical road signs.  
Or the fact they were late.  
Not even the fact the witch had unparalleled hiding abilities, having eluded capture more than once already.

It was all due to the motorbike really.

Maka was sitting in her usual seat behind the driver. However, she was not behaving quite as usually as one might think.  
When Kid had received the call that tonight was the time to strike, it was already nine in the evening. Desperate to make up time, Kid had started to push the bike beyond the legal speed limit, dodging in and out of traffic.

At the _start_ of the journey, Maka had her usual firm grip on the drivers waist, which in itself was a little like torture to Kid (mind you, she had no idea he was ticklish just _there_). But as his speed increased, Maka's hands had started to... _wander_ a little.  
Normally (although Kid didn't know it) when Soul pushed the speed boundaries, she enjoyed it. She would laugh at the death defying stunts her partner pulled as they raced against enemies, time and the wind. This was completely unbeknownst to Kid however, so when her arms had snaked around his hips and therefore pulling herself closer to him and his warmth, he had thought nothing of it. It was a natural reaction to someone who was a little uncomfortable, he had reasoned.  
After all; she was the one most likely to fall off if he did something reckless.

He didn't even bat an eyelash (although his OCD twitched a little) when she had tilted her head up, so that her chin was resting just to the left of his lowest neck vertebrae, his hair at the nape of his neck tickling the end of her nose. They _had_ been driving for nearly two hours: she must be getting tired and it was gone eleven o' clock, long past her self-inflicted bedtime so she probably wanted to sleep.  
But then she had opened her mouth ever-so-slightly and _breathed_. A ghost of hot, moist air that tickled over his earlobe and sent electricity to his gut.

The very first breath had him nearly crashing the bike into the back of a lorry, he'd been so startled.  
And she _kept_ doing it: a mist of hot air would creep up over his ear, before a cold moment of breathing in and then the agonising torture of the slow breath out again.

He had managed to turn the sudden acceleration towards the giant vehicle into a sneaky overtake, then he twisted his knuckles; opening the throttle further. The sensation on his neck could have been unintentional he knew, but if he didn't get to their destination soon, he'd turn around and do something he'd regret right there, the mission be _damned_!

He snarled under his breath again, an endless wave of curses screaming in his mind. It was fortunate that Liz had gone to sleep almost instantly after they started out, having professed the need her 'beauty sleep' and Patty had, after numerous rounds of infuriating eye-spy with _herself_, finally fallen asleep not twenty minutes ago. It was really very fortunate indeed, because he couldn't stand the ribbing he would be getting if they were awake.

...Too fortunate.

She hadn't...?  
He opened up the edges of his soul perception, allowing the smallest part of himself to send tendrils of his soul wavelength brushing up against her soul behind him. What he got back was a potent mixture of amusement and satisfaction, completely betraying her intentions and causing a spike in his own soul of complete shock.  
She _had_!

She had _planned_ this! She wanted to get him hot and bothered, trembling with need because of the mere feeling of her. He wanted to scream with frustration at the sensations she was deliberately creating in a dangerous situation, where he could do _nothing_ in retaliation.

His face settled into a grimace as they sped through a set of only just amber traffic lights; he wasn't going to let her affect him like this, or lose control that badly. Damnit, he had _standards_! He could cope with this much; he had his pride as a Shinigami to uphold. It was only air! It wasn't like she could actually do anything while he was driving! ...Could she?  
What he hadn't counted on was the fact the wind made his T-shirt ride up, and Maka wasn't wearing her gloves.

If Maka was pleased when he twitched because her cold fingers began to trace shapes on his skin, she didn't show it. She just kept breathing those steadily getting harder to ignore breaths, before-  
_Holy Shit!_  
Something warm and wet had flicked the very edge of his earlobe. He swerved violently at the sensation out into the 'over taking' lane, cutting off a speeding and now very irate land-rover. Not stopping to apologise (particularly when they shouldn't have been going that fast anyway), he sped on out of sheer shock. The fingers on his hips were drawing little figure-of-eights onto his skin, in perfect synchronisation.

Kid swallowed hard.  
Twice.

His breathing hitched as teeth lightly scraped just above his shoulder blade, dragging his shirt collar down to reveal more skin. He nearly howled with frustration at the sheer torture this woman was putting him through, _This. Wasn't. Fair__! _He _had_ to concentrate on keeping the bike moving safely, without stopping for anything so that they could get to the town in time. This meant that he could do very little in retaliation to the girl sitting behind him, who was currently trying to drive him into a whirlwind of insanity.  
Which was exactly what Maka had wanted.

Completely unbeknownst to Kid, he was a hard person to get a reaction out of. With the understandable exception of symmetry, or insulting his father and friends. Sudden hugs from buxom women such as Blair, seemingly had no visible effect on the young Shinigami. Not even the extremely awkward situations they often found themselves in as a couple or as a group got him to do much except faintly blush, his face impassive. Frequently, it seemed like he only had five facial expressions and it was extremely frustrating for the girl to try and decode what he was actually feeling in a situation without actively touching his Soul. The only way to tell what he was actually feeling at such times was to watch the tips of his ears, which turned red when he was embarrassed or... otherwise stimulated.

This, in her mind, was the perfect revenge. She got to enjoy herself while he was, for once, on the receiving end of the situation and there was nothing he could do about it. If her actions meant that Kid would do something inexplicably rash when they got to the hotel, so be it. He'd let out some of that repressed passion inside of him and she would _still _get to enjoy herself. He'd be showing more emotions at least. She glanced up at the back of his head.

Kid's ears were as red as her father's hair.

If it wasn't bad enough already in this situation, Kid discovered that the faster he went the more she... _wandered_. She was rubbing against him like a cat at 143 mph, when he reached 150 her hands had grasped his belt buckle causing him to let out something that sounded like a very unmanly squeak. She had laughed at that, he could tell because he could feel the vibrations from the presence of her chest on his back. Which he then proceeded to very determinedly ignore, trying not follow that train of thought any further, lest she noticed the growing... _problem_ in his pants.

So he had slowed back to a steady 130mph. Which made her retreat to his abdominals and above, thank you _god_. Her hands splayed on his chest under his shirt, nails lightly scratching as she pressed them even closer together as she nuzzled and bit and _licked _along the back of his neck. She could feel his increasing heart rate, the rise in his already high body temperature and every breath that was getting harsher with each bit of contact she made.

Kid made a noise like two boulders falling over each other low in his chest, which Maka actually _felt _before accelerating again. The engine's high pitched and steady whine turning into a scream that all too well matched his current emotional and physical state.

There would be more... _distractions _from her at this speed he knew, but they'd get to the hotel a _hell of a lot faster_ than they would have otherwise.

Right now, that was all that mattered.

Mission be _damned_.

Maka smiled;

_Excellent. All according to plan._

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**Thanks for reading.**

**Saint, Over and Out.**


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